Chronos: Anon, Ante, Bis, Now
by Treesh Aradia
Summary: COMPLETE: When we get what we want, we realise what we want is what we need but have lost. What happens when the threads of time allow for a singular moment for it all to change? Clois
1. F i r s t

**Title**: Chronos: Anon, Ante, Bis, Now  
**Author**: Treesh Aradia  
**Rating**: PT  
**Disclaimer**: Not mine  
**Spoilers**: "Spirit" and the previous stuff I think  
**Summary**: When we get what we want, we realise what we want is what we need but have lost. What happens when the threads of time allow for a singular moment for it all to change?

A/n: It's so complicated, I hope this helps: Chloe/Lois are dead in the future. Yes, I am an evil bitch. Lana/Clark are married and before you start firing all your salvos at me, she's dead too and the ending justifies the means, REALLY. This fic is dark or at least angsty. It deals with random scenes/flashbacks. The future is at the mercy of Pylea an evil race, don't worry, it's not in any canon history, i just thought the name sounded cool and cruel race don't really play a big part in this fic. This is also unbeta'd and un spellcheck'd. (summary of londwinded a/n: think Terminator.)

**Chronos: Anon, Ante, Bis, Now**

_Anon_

It wasn't like he had much to do; his life had been ripped to shreds in a span of a few seconds.

If he was really being truthful, his life wasn't much a few years back anyway. But now, he felt the certainty of acetic tears on his pillow at night. His wife died yesterday.

Pulled the rug from under her.

Pulled the plug.

On Her.

And he sat in the cool metallic chair by the edge of her bed that very night, by the standard hospital windows, facing her soon to be lifeless body, watching the doctors as they wrote in their clean little files. The priest had left already, rites been said. Nothing to do but watch as the monitor rang a drab singular note.

Life on the line, lifeline.

Life and line, monitor and line.

And the tell tale singular sound that life that has just past.

If he were a little bit more cynical, a tad bit bitterer, he would have laughed at the irony of it all. He, Superman, was pretty much invincible, man of steel… super. And yet, the one thing that could break him now was the petite women that now breathed no more.

His last reason for living. _Lana_. His mind rings out, as if in mentally speaking it, like a prayer on his jaded lips, he would remember her forever.

He, however, knew the limitations of the human mind, how it would gradually forget. Bit by bit, it would lose the once assumed immortal memories. Beginning with the colour of clothes she wore, then the way she moved about the kitchen, then the shape of her body, outlined in moonlight while she was snug under her blanket. And lastly the smile, her warm smile.

As if in thinking of his wife, now deceased, his mind conjures different women, in a different time.

The school paper editor cum reporter and her flair for investigative work…he vaguely remembers the way her blonde hair stuck out at odd ends as she sat concentrating on a new big story…Chloe was and could have been the best. And Clark feels the start of tears at how unfair it is that he has forgotten the sound of her voice, his voice of reason, most of the time.

Then as if compelled by some external force he remembers the sloppy ponytail and snark, the pink dress and sneeze. The way her hair blew in the zephyr of the afternoon, while she rolled her eyes at something he said. He never could forget the day he found the secret side of her, the side forced to the surface when her sister appeared. He never really found her annoying, but that day, he knew he liked her. He saw then the start of genuine affection and friendship.

And when she really smiled - like the smile she gave him while they crazy danced the night of his prom to 'Somebody Told Me' - the curve of her lips could rewrite history…

He laughs to himself, without the bitterness, as he realizes how well he could still remember her. She always was the exception. Nine years could not blur the shape of her face, the brown of her eyes nor the curve of her lips. He remembered all he had of her. He loved her, and he never ever got the chance to fully realize how much. She will be the one that got away.

The one who died before he could really save her.

Her and Chloe.

And the effulgence of the memory dimmed, shifting to scenes in a darker period in his life. The memory of the call that came for him that night nine years ago, the one that informed him that his two best friends had died in a car crash en route to Las Vegas during their end of school road trip. He should have gone, should have packed his camping gear and back pack, should have but didn't. Instead, he found himself with a ticket to Paris and Lana at his side.

He recalls the day after their prom, their conversation at the Kent's porch and how they were going to start afresh.

He agreed, for he was Clark and she was Lana, the girl he loved. He never really figured out why the picture he found himself visually recreating in his mind had brown eyes and cynical eyes.

Now even Lana has left him. All he had now was the world at possible peril, and a gem that turned time arbitrarily to a moment that needed correction.

_Chronos bis_, time revisited.

It was a shame that the JLA had it configured to only a year back when the seeds of the Pylea army were only being planted. Taking the gem, Clark instigates the process by smashing it onto the ground.

And the last thoughts he had as he fell into the wide portal was one of a woman in a pink prom dress.

**Ante**

He dreamt like everybody else. Sequences of thoughts and hope conflated into the subconscious, yoked into one big pile of what could have been. For he almost always dreamt of the _what could have been_.

With her.

And like every dream sequence, there was repetition and in his, it was always stained with the repugnance of death, like a putrid smell calling on a wonderfully sunny day. He hated it, he knows, even before the dream goes broken asunder.

He's in the backseat again, and Chloe is driving the curves along the terrain, while she seats juxtaposed with her cousin, arguing with him about…well just arguing. And he doesn't give a fig about anything save the way she looks, the way she tilts her head just so, how she watches him as she tries to get him riled...

_"Smallville, take a picture! It'll last longer." __  
__"It doesn't matter; you're like the thorn in my side, there forever."_

And then it starts to unravel. He tears his eyes away from her and onto the road ahead. He hears the sickening sound of metal on metal, hears their scream, and watches as they get thrown out of the car from the sheer force of impact…

"LOIS!" He jerks forward in bed, panic, tears and sweat evident. It takes him a minute to realize where he was, and where he wasn't. And who has placed a hand on his back, whispering calming words of _it's ok, just a dream, not real_.

But it was real, for them. He could almost smell the tangy scent of blood…

Lana never questioned why _hers_ was the name on his lips, the only one he shouted at the very last end.

She knew the answer years before.

Yet chose to ignore it, and _all_ the signs that there was something else between them.

_The best ones always start that way._

And now she is in her own little purgatory hell, being punished for her selfishness. With a man who loved her but didn't. She wondered if anyone else had experienced what it was like to share her husband's heart with a dead girl who was '_rude, bossy…only a friend'_.

But she knows she has to atone, and for the sake of repentance and her sanity, she doesn't say anything as her husband sobs for the girl he loved and have realized (only after she was gone) he loved above all else.

Lana was sure about that.

And so she sleeps on her side and neglects the fact that she ruined all their lives by her choices. For it were her choices that made everything come to play.

She just wished one day, he would have the courage to end it, to end them and their sham of a marriage. For she had no courage left to do so, to take away the only thing he now obsesses about as a way to deal with the regret and guilt of Chloe and Lois's death. She could not make that decision, in fear it was ultimately wrong, so it had to be his.

However she knew that by morning he would chalk it up to nightmares and leave it at that, forgetting his tears he cried the night after night after night before and his heart that never really felt whole…

Lana, the good wife. She would smile and they would pretend they were still in love.

She didn't know what else to be if not that.  
**  
****Bis**

_"The Gem of Epochia has the capability to act as a gateway for the user, and only the user, to a specific thread in time where there is need for modification. In our case, that will be approximately three hundred days ago, about the time Pylean soldiers first landed and infiltrated our societal system. It is to our belief that they have been residing at the fringes of LV. _

_According to the myth, once shattered, the future and past self melds into one being until the gem of that timeline is found and broken again by the user. It is extremely important that the gem is found and broken, for if someone else shatters it, the previous user, that would be you Clark, would relive the years all over again. And the thread of time would suffer dire consequences of epic proportions. Stop the Pyleans, find the gem and return. Nothing else should be changed. _

_Nothing else can be, only what the gem indicates through its divine powers and signs. Now not much is known about how much of yourself now will be entirely conscious in the host's body, your past self, but that's a much better chance than the rest of us. No one really knows how the physical body will be able to sustain the travel and with your invulnerability, Clark, you are our only hope…"_

Kent Farm, 2005. (Countdown to Recollection, Day One)

"Well, well, well, look who's decided to sleep in this fine afternoon! Wakey, wakey Clarkie! There are cows to milk and hay to stack."

Blink. Register, and the sleep induced mind awakens. "Lois?"

"No, Sid Vicious, can't you tell from my brown hair and non eye-liner eyes?"

The girl snarks like the professional she was.

_Is_.

And suddenly, he feels the world spin about and beyond its axis, and in his mind's eyes he sees flashes of images of funny looking costumes, a big red gem, spandex and weird bat like masks…

He groans, thinking how dreams were seldom commonsensical.

"Very funny, Torpedo. What time is it?"

"It's noon. You've been sleeping since you got home from school last evening. I know, 'cause I let Shelby lick your face after eating dog chow and you didn't budge an inch. And hello? What is with the name calling? I think you are taking far too many liberties, Smallville!" The feigned annoyance and genuine confusion over her newly founded nick was mirrored in Clark's otherwise amused-with-Lois face.

_Torpedo_?

"Can you blame me? You are quite numbing, Lois. In a good way of course." He smiles, pleased with his justification. She was.

An eye brow arches, and a, "are you flirting with me?"

He smiles enigmatically, and leaves her in his wake as he carries out his usual ablutions.

"Well, I'll be damned."

A smile.

Kent Farm, 2005. (Countdown to Recollection, Day Two)

"Hey Clark. I booked the rental car, and the road map is already in my bag. Now all we need to do is get the camping equipment and potato chips."

"Hey Chloe." Clark greeted, slightly lacking in his usual demeanor as he saw his friend approach his locker.

The blonde stopped walking, noticing something off with her friend. "Are you ok? You seem a little different."

"Yeah, a little tired."

He didn't look tired. Clark never got tired. Bored or wary maybe. But tired? Huh. "Huh."

"What?"

He looks at her slightly irritated and she decides to lay off the Russian inquisition for today and instead says, "oh nothing. So anyway, you're coming right with us right? I mean the three amigos need the third amigo. Or it'd be the two amigos and that's just wrong."

He laughs at her, missing their corridor chats. Now it was his turn to stop. He saw her just yesterday.

"Clark? You alright? You have to come. Who else would help us girls carry our stuff?"

"Huh? Oh, yah, of course I will."

"Great. Lois and I are going prom dress shopping later. You want to come with?"

Chloe's sly look warned Clark of the numerous hours they would take and the numerous shopping bags (not prom related - they tended to deviate their attention at the mall) he would have to end up carrying, if only to have him embarrassed. Lois was a bad influence on Chloe as she has long since stopped helping him from the bully, and went on to the side of Anakin.

And speak of the devil.

"Hey Chloe, Smallville."

"Hey Lo." Chloe greeted, happy there was someone else to coerce their friend in a little trip to the mall. If anything, Lois would do it for the sheer knowledge of knowing she can manipulate him. Chloe laughed at how easy she could do it, and from the looks of it, she would say she was winning the bet she hedged with Pete over the internet of when they would get together. She was a whole two weeks short but she had faith. The trip would help. As would she. Heh. But for now…

"Clark won't come prom dress shopping with us."

Lois' eyes grew wide, and she feigned a horrified gasp. "Chivalry really is dead! The last of its kind has conformed."

Clark rolls his eyes. However he couldn't help but absorb the image she cut in her white tank top and surprisingly, pink plaited skirt and hair untied with big brown eyes… she was numbingly beautiful without knowing, even with the sarcastic smile now evident on her face.

And as the two started their usual game of who could get the other riled up first, Chloe stayed behind to watch the beginnings of something inevitable.

Maybe she wouldn't have to wait that long to win the bet after all.


	2. S e c o n d

"_Clark, I'm still in love with you. I know that you have your secrets and I have my questions about them, but, if that's the way it has to be, then ok, I'll back off. I just want to know if we still have a chance. If we could start over and see where it takes us." _

_He stares into her gorgeous green eyes and feels himself drowning. It was so very easy to lose himself in those pools of green, so very easy to fall back into them, like a moth to a flame. So very easy to forget the awkwardness that permeated the air when they were in the moment, so very easy to forget the pink dress and devil may care smile._

_Lana was the only girl whom he ever loved._

_The only one. _

_He nods, and he sees her smile. She hugs him and it was so easy to fall back into their little ivory tower. _

_However as he tightens his hold, he remembers brown eyes as gorgeous and hypnotizing as Lana's as they danced across the floor, strobe lights flashing and bodies so close to one another, if he moved into that little inch they would have touched... Yet, he closes his eyes and focuses on the girl in his arm._

"_Come to Paris with me, Clark." _

_And it was so very easy to forget the plans of Las Vegas and camping in the wilderness. So easy to say "Yes."_

. . . . . . "You know, staring at stars is not that bad a hobby, if it were anyone but you Clark. Knowing you though, it usually means Lana trouble. So since I'm here, spill the beans. Come on."

He didn't hear her come up the stairs, too engrossed in the dream he just had. The tangibility of it scared him. It was like waking up to a reality instead of falling into a dreamscape. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced. The minute details in the sequences and the absolute agony he felt, was just too _familiar_ for his liking.

Turning away from the twilight hue of the night, he stares at the girl in front of him instead. "Do you ever wonder about the future? How our choices might affect them?"

She stares, shocked that the sentence hadn't a word of Lana. "Everyday I guess. Why?"

He shakes his head, too confused to put his thoughts into words. How do you tell someone your dreams were really scenes from the future without sounding like someone in need of being committed? He didn't even know if that was it. But the discrepancies eventually wound into that conclusion, every damn time.

"Do you regret your decisions? Have you ever wished you could go back in time and change it?" He looks at her, waiting for an answer.

"Every damn time." She whispers so silently, he was sure he couldn't have heard it if not for his super hearing.

_Me too. _

_Every minute of every day._

He sees the obvious change in her as she reverts from somber back to the brash empowered ass-kicker, and he takes note to muse on how efficient her defense mechanism was, in erecting the walls around herself from bad memories and heart ache. How it shielded her from feeling and ultimately expressing it.

"Ok, let's cut the philosophical babble. I hear a certain cousin of mine needs help planning our route through Kansas and Vegas!"

And just like that, they manage to clear the slightly odd air caused by reminiscing and dreams that were tad bit too real.

If she only knew the cause for his questions…

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' "_Lana came by and we talked."_

_She nods, knowing what he was going to say next. She wouldn't interrupt._

"_She asked me to go to Paris with her." _

"_I know. Have a good trip." She turns to go._

"_That's it? I tell you about her and Paris and all you do is wish me bon voyage?"_

_She stares at him, surprised at the amount of emotion, at the amount of frustration he's showing her. Gone was the mellow farm boy, and in his place was a man in anguish. But it came a little too late._

"_Do you want a goodbye kiss?" She will not make it easy. She's already sacrificing her soul for him and his fucking future with Lana. She won't let him have it that easy. _

"_What about last night? We kissed Lois! As much as you want to deny that something happened, it did! And I know you feel the same way about me as I do you."_

"_What do you know about how I feel Clark? Do you even know what you feel? You don't get to eat the pie if you also have the cake!" and quietly, "I saw you with her just now." _

_And he crumbles at her admission, "Lois it doesn't mean that I…"_

"_I heard you! I was in the barn when the both of you were playing snuggle bunny outside. I will not be your back up plan if she realizes she doesn't want you Clark. I had my feel of second fiddle last night, so forgive me if I say no thanks._

_So save yourself the trouble. Go to Paris. It's the capital of romance, maybe you should marry her on the Eiffel tower while little girls with french braids can be your flower girls."_

_She sees his anger at her dismissal of what he thought were his "feelings". _

"_I will. And maybe when we are, you'll be able to see just what exactly you've lost. And when that day comes and you want to have a similar talk as what we have now, I'll save you the trouble. You're right, it was always about her."_

_He leaves and all she can do is smile and taste the salty tang of tears on her lips._

' ' ' ' ' ' ' (Countdown to Recollection, Day Four)

"Alright, tell me again why we're at the indoor pool after hours?" Clark Kent asked, a little bit annoyed that he got roped into yet another temerarious plan of Lois's.

He watches as she rolled her eyes, for the sixth time. Once for every time he asked. "Because this is Smallville," he arches an eyebrow, emulating her past action, "and there's nothing else to do at oh, ten o'clock!"

"Normal people stay home, and I think believe it or not, there is this newfangled invention called a _television_, that people turn on with a _remote control_ and watch when they 'get bored'."

"Ok, you and I both know we're bored with the five channels that are on air-"

"We have cable, LOIS! With _fifty_ six channels."

"That is _not_ the point. We need to get out there and do something! Sitting at home all day would only make us sick; did you not watch Cabin Fever?"

"Lois, they had a deadly viral infection. They didn't _die_ from staying in the cabin too long."

"Huh, is that what happened? Maybe I should have watched it."

Clark threw his hands up in the air_. I give up_.

"Well, too late. We're here now so what will it be Clark? Boredom or breaking and entering?"

"Like I have a choice."

"There's a good boy."

' ' ' ' ' ' ' "What happened to Chloe? I don't want to baby-sit alone."

"Oh, ha-ha Smallville. And to answer your question, I have _no_ idea. She said she'd meet us here at ten thirty, something about an emergency at the torch. Afraid to be alone with me, Smallville?" She smiles, and this time, he doesn't see the snarkiness.

Just her lips.

Her very nice lips.

His heart beat starts to pick up and the rhythmic tattoo of thump-thump became all the louder. He was pretty sure she could hear it. And if not, she's doing a hell of a job pretending. He gulps, wondering when the scene shifted gears to fully-loaded tension. Not Lana tense, not _any_ kind of tense, unless one was associating it with sexual tension. He eyes the white two-piece she was wearing, wishing he could have seen it when she was out of the water, but he got out of the showers slightly later than she did, and had to contend with the water in the pool getting in his way. It was a very nice suit though, as far as he could see, without getting caught.

"I think I can take whatever you throw at me, Lois." He remembers the day he started _taking liberties_ with her, and how much fun he had teasing her and leaving her speechless.

Like now.

"Can you now? I'd like to see you try." He doesn't remember seeing her swim closer, but who was he to argue? He was pretty much occupied with other important subject matter.

Although he should have noticed since the subject of focus was _on_ her, so to speak.

He doesn't discourage her from swimming all the more closer to him; in fact, he was probably the one inching closer to her, closing the remaining gap and instantaneously feeling the little electric shocks pulse through his veins as their eyes connected. He was so close he could feel her breath on his cheek. And doing what any red blooded boy would, he caught her in his arms, bringing their bodies flush against his.

He laughs as he hears her yelp. "Try me."

And suddenly, she grows silent. He takes it as a sign and leans in, lips drawing closer to hers. He has wanted to do this since she smiled at him from the edge of the lighted pool.

"HELLO? Is anyone there?"

And just like that, the moment ends and the lights are turned on. They break apart, caught in the headlights.

_Oh shit_, he thinks as he eyes the guard standing at the entrance, smiling smugly at them.

_ . . . . . . . _

P.Ross4Politik has been added to the conversation.

P.Ross4Politik: You cheated, you cheater. You are not supposed to actively help them. What happened to our terms?

IwriteTru: I did not cheat! I had a bad stomach, and couldn't go with them. I was _sooo_ the innocent bystander!

_P.Ross4Politik has sent you a nudge._

IwriteTru: Stop that! What are you? Twelve!

P.Ross4Politik: … so am I or am I not your man servant when I come to visit during the hols?

IwriteTru: Not yet. Trust me, it's only a matter of time! I am so close to winning this.

P.Ross4Politik: What happened anyway? The scene was set! What do they need? A big neon sign saying **get it on**!

IwriteTru: The security guard is what happened. Lois won't talk about it. She just said they were swimming and got caught. I doubt it though. She was blushing when I asked her about last night.

P.Ross4Politik: And our boy Clark?

IwriteTru: The same. I'm sure something happened, but from the looks of it today, it seems they're happy pretending nothing did.

P.Ross4Politik: Gtg. I have a killer pol.science essay to write now. Keep me posted.

IwriteTru: Ok Pete. See ya soon, Alfred.

P.Ross4Politik?

IwriteTru: As in Alfred the name of the butler in almost every movie about a rich kid?

_P.Ross4Politik has sent you a nudge._

_P.Ross4Politik has left the conversation._

IwriteTru: Ass.

_ . . . . . . _

He listens as best as he could, while Bruce explicated the finer details of the legendary jewel. The Pylean forces were gaining strength and even with the aid of the human army and navy, they were a force to be reckoned with. They needed to stop them.

"_The Gem of Epochia has the capability to act as a gateway for the user, and only the user, to a specific thread in time where there is need for modification. In our case, that will be approximately three hundred days ago, about the time Pylean soldiers first landed and infiltrated our societal system. It is to our belief that they have been residing at the fringes of LV._

According to the myth, once shattered, the future and past self melds into one being until the gem of that timeline is found and broken again by the user. It is extremely important that the gem is found and broken, for if someone else shatters it, the previous user, that would be you Clark, would relive the years all over again. And the thread of time would suffer dire consequences of epic proportions. Stop the Pyleans, find the gem and return. Nothing else should be changed.

Nothing else can be, only what the gem indicates through its divine powers and signs. Now not much is known about how much of yourself now will be entirely conscious in the host's body, your past self, but that's a much better chance than the rest of us. No one really knows how the physical body will be able to sustain the travel and with your invulnerability, Clark, you are our only hope…"

"Oh god," Clark, old and new, whispers in the quiet.

He remembers.

. . . . . . . 

Smallville, Prom Night REDUX, 2005

If there was one thing Clark could have changed the night of the prom, it was his dance card.

Having woken up that morning with a serious case of remembrance, in which there was no cure except to accept it, made him feel like he was going through the motions, only once more with feeling. Seeing Lois _alive_ and without the tears and anger like the last he saw of her nine years ago, relatively speaking, made him feel beyond happy.

However he had to refrain from doing anything but trade verbal blows.

Wasn't any easier that he had the refreshing memory of her body snug against his and skin on skin, save for the white two piece she had on. But with the presence and _watchful eyes _of his suspicious parents that morning, the morning after getting dragged home by the pool guard, he had to be trained in an exercise on control.

With leash and chains and all.

One thing about having nine years worth of memories restored, it made taking out soul-exchanger Dawn easier.

No Dawn in Lois or Chloe.

Or him.

Although the pink gown did stay, much to the dismay of one Lois Lane who had reluctantly agreed to be his prom date after strenuous persuasion on his part (Bruce did say not to change the events of the past, even if it wasn't three hundred days before July 2014, and discounting the fact that he did change the Dawn events.)

It did come with a price though, as Lois was late in buying her dress that afternoon; she got stuck with the pink number.

He chuckled remembering her whinging.

_You could have asked me a week before you know, Smallville. Then I won't have to look like the pink power ranger! I think you like seeing me in horrible embarrassing situations. Is this about the pool thing? I did not call that guard on us; you can't punish me for that, wait where are you going schmuck!_

He had left her on her own, knowing it would be another hour till she got ready. Kudos to remembering future's past.

He remembered the dress, but seeing her wear it for the second time in his life made him appreciate it all the more, especially knowing which parts were to be appreciated with extra focus. He was a boy after all.

"_You know this is us two going together in a platonic non-date fashion right?"_ She had said as they drove towards the school. He had agreed with a _"well, that was what I said this afternoon, unless you want us to go as something besides two non-daters." _She rolled her eyes, but otherwise chose to stare out the window, missing his crossed fingers on the steering wheel.

He would make things right.

Even if it meant blowing the future to smithereens.

Lois Lane was worth it.

' ' ' ' ' ' ' '

Smallville, Prom Night REDUX, 2005

And as he stood among his fellow classmen, he pondered a way to get her do dance with him, short of blackmail. Which judging by the way she was avoiding him once they stepped foot in the gym, might be the only way he could get her to.

He would have his dance. He would have her, at least for the night before what he remembers as the fallout.

Sighing he moved towards her.

' ' ' ' ' ' '

_I went to far, yes I came to close_

_I drove away the one that I loved the most_

_now I ride the tide on a boat made of sand_

_I'm sailing for another to guide me to land_

And as he came closer, she stops talking to her cousin, words seemingly unimportant in contrast to his determined face. And so she stood, silent for what seems to be the first time, instead plainly focusing on his journey toward her, like a train wreck that she couldn't stop her gaze from wondering to.

_and lead me into the night_

_please drive away the light_

_'cause I've been blinded by glitter and gold_

_my eyes need to rest from the light_

_and sleep well at night_

Only, this time, she welcomed it.

He stops, and she sees him for the first time, without the impending doom and disaster that seemed to bleed into their first meet like a carcinogen. She sees what she missed before, his soul emerging like an angel in victorious holy light from his beautiful green orbs, and suddenly like a pseudo slideshow, she remembers moments when the warmth behind them seemed to seep into her skin… the time they sparred, the day he was dunked and she was the cause of it, the nightly talks they seemed to reluctantly have but never stopped having or wanting, the swimming pool…

She doesn't argue as he wordlessly takes her hand, leading them away from a sputtering Chloe.

_I traveled east and I traveled west_

_and I foud a boy with a heart on his chest_

_I ran aground, my ship left to rust_

_yes, I found a guide in the city of lust_

He pulls her into him, and she relishes the chance to rub her face against his chest, to have him hold her, to let down her guard for that one miniscule moment, and just be Lois Lane, without pretense, without façade… without the walls. To have him guide her into an unknown territory for them both, one she's going to admit - just for tonight - to having considered and found wanting deep in the night, away from the light.

_to lead me into the night_

_oh please drive away the light_

_although my mother will never understand_

_I walk with him away from the light_

Tonight, she would forget herself.

Tonight, she was happy, in this blurry little daze where she could forget what she always deemed her motto: to keep 'them' away, a safe distance away from herself, to avoid the burns of the aftermath.

Tonight she was going to throw it into the wind for this dance, and just enjoy being there with him. Just for a dance. If nothing else, she would etch this into her memory that she had loved for a second. That she could without destroying it, like every other thing she's done so far.

_oh you, you, you, it's gotta be you_

_you, oh you it's gotta be you _

_true, true, true, it's gotta be you_

_you, oh you it's gotta be you_

"What are you doing to me?" She asks softly, looking up at him.

He smiles at her and holds her tightly, and she smiles back and accepts that maybe they didn't need words this time. She lays her head back against his chest, three words repeating in her mind, but she chose instead to listen to the words of a melody she feels she's heard before but cannot remember…

_to lead me into the night..._

And as they danced, unbeknownst to them the threads of time begin to separate and somewhere within the caves, a red gem glows…


	3. Epilogue

Flashback of 2005

_It was late when they arrived at the front of Kent farm .The lights were out telling that the Kents were still at the Walters' for a little poker game. _

_Not knowing what compelled him to do it, Clark cranks up the radio as a song comes on. He takes her hand and tries a different, slower kind of dancing right there on the porch. They laugh as they fumbled a bit. The punch was spiked after the fifth song they had danced to._

oh you, you, you, it's gotta be you

you, oh you it's gotta be you

true, true, true, it's gotta be you

you, oh you it's gotta be you

to lead me into the night...

_And before they knew it, his lips were on hers, hands in her hair, and he smiles as he feels her return the kiss. _

well I went to far, and I came to close

I drove away the first one and now he's a ghost

then I went adrift on a boat made of sand

it was leaking like a sieve but I made it to land

_With long smooth legs wrapped around his middle, and limbs in a tangle, they stagger towards the backseat of the car, never once stopping, for fear that the sanity that escaped them would return. Tongues wrapped in their own little dance as their real one stood forsook. He reaches for her zip, and she, his shirt buttons. They were going beyond anywhere they were familiar with, both ignoring the fact that they have crossed a line. _

_The line._

_The line they always knew was there, even if they affirmed they were only bantering and teasing friends and will ever only be reluctant friends. But they were always and ever aware of that unspoken border and sometimes even privately curious if they could cross it and what detriments could arise. _

he leads me into the night

he drives away the light

he makes the darkness seem bright

and walks wih me into the night

_She rids the coat from his back and shirt, leaving a smootj sculpted plane to trail her fingers over. Lightly, ever so lightly._

_He groans and pulls away from her, both with bruised lips and heaving chests._

"_We need to stop-"_

_And his words act as a rejection as sharp and fatal as a knife wound in her side. She pushes him off, and starts to leave. _

"_Lois I don't mean," He tries again and grabs at her wrist, only to feel the sharp sting of manicured fingers on cheek. He stares stunned at her, and fails to regain his speech until after she has slammed the door and heart in his face. "We need to stop, I need to breathe."_

Away from the light.

Smallville, Prom Night REDUX, 2005

She watches as they dance. She watches each and every expression, noticing how every smile on his face seemed to grow bigger than the one he already had on.

With her.

For her, because of her.

She wishes she had a claim to him, wishes she could justify the way she is feeling now, like she needed to get away and cry and scream and cry some more. But she didn't have any entitlement, and maybe now, she never will.

Did he ever smile that much around her? How was it that he could look so happy now, and she wasn't the cause of it? It hurt to know that maybe, they really weren't meant for each other.

"Hey Lana."

She looks at her friend and smiles, even if it doesn't reach her eyes, even when all she felt like doing was rush into his arms and claim that his smile was hers. She knows that Chloe knows. That Chloe can see through her act, her act that used to be espoused by Chloe herself.

They were both, at one time or another, in love with him after all. She wondered if Chloe could feel her soul dying bit by bit every time he smiled.

"I know it hurts, trust me this is me a few months ago, but he really is in love with her. He may not know it now, but something tells me they're the real deal, Lana."

"I know, I just need to accept it, I guess. I still feel something for him. And I can't let it go, let him go." And she feels the sting of tears at the side of her eyes.

She feels the hand on her shoulder, and the hug that came after.

And the friendship that seemed so trite and superficial made a transition into something both girls would not need to question nine years from now, sipping their strawberry martinis and discussing the drab little things in their lives while sharing a few years worth of tears and laughter.

They came home a little before two, having to send Chloe and Lana - both superbly drunk and laughing like hyenas - home after having drunk from the spiked refreshment bowl. It was a _coincidence_ that Clark had managed to get both Lois and himself drinks from the only one (out of five bowls) that was not tampered with.

They sat in the car, not speaking, both reflecting on the night and the first dance that seemed to lead them to six more after.

For Clark, it was a night he would remember. More so than the other prom that seemed worlds away, even though, technically, he hasn't actually lived it yet. He shuddered to think of what repercussions he was going to have to deal with when he returned back, if he even did. He didn't want to.

The gem was still unfound, he had no clue where the devil he was supposed to be, where the Pyleans were and what he was going to say to a pissed off Wayne when he found out he did change things.

But all Clark was really focused on now was how he managed to change that dance card of his. The names of Chloe, Lana and a few others were replaced with only one name on it, and he was glad.

"So, tonight was fun, in spite of present company."

He laughs at her. She was the most amazing girl he's ever known.

"It was, especially because of present company." He corrects, his smiling growing wider as he saw the slightly uncomfortable look she had, and the slight blush that was probably growing warmer by the second, judging by how her heart rate has started to pick up. "I really had a good time with you, Lo."

She turns to him immediately, shocked that he admitted it, shocked that they weren't following their usually acerbic, if not fake, script. He doesn't know how to play it and suddenly, she finds that maybe she doesn't want to anymore. She was tired of pretending that they didn't feel anything whenever they were around the other.

Tired of knowing and having to play a role for the sake of others, and herself.

Not anymore.

"Me too."

Her soft admission was more than he could hope for. And more.

He feels the tingling again, the one he feels whenever he was near her, and doesn't hesitate in capturing her lips in a soft kiss.

His heart soars as he feels her return it.

But all too soon, she breaks it.

"Goodnight Clark." She smiles and leaves the car.

He stares after her and does the same when she reaches the door, with happier steps and thoughts.

_P.Ross4Politik has been added to the conversation._

**IwriteTru**: Two words, Pete: Man slave.

**IwriteTru**: I won.

**P.Ross4Politik**: Wow. How? When? Where? HOOOOW?

**IwriteTru**: I'm not sure how. One minute Lois was telling me about how silly I was being. "Me and Him? Ha! Only when man can shoot lasers out of their eyes." and the next, she's being swept off her Blahniks by him.

**P.Ross4Politik**: Again. Wow. I never figured Clark had it in him.

**IwriteTru**: Yep, our regular Casanova. However, he's been acting strange lately. Completing my sentences and knowing what's going to happen next. You know, he even hugged me the other day, something about never ever having me leave. WEIRD. He also warned Lana and I about the punch. And even he doesn't have super smell.

**P.Ross4Politik**: Well, anything that works up that boy's courage to take his girl into his arms is ok with me. So how about them red socks huh?

**IwriteTru**: I guess so, and what red socks? Was there a match? Wait, don't even try! You can't escape a week's worth of man servant duties Ross!

_P.Ross4Politik has been set as busy, he may or may not reply._

**IwriteTru**: What the…I am calling you right now!

**IwriteTru**: Pick up the phone you wuss!

_You have just sent a nudge._

_Sorry you cannot send multiple nudges. Please try again later._

**IwriteTru**: Pete!

Smallville, 2005

In all his life, he never figured he would be able to find that special someone to be with. Hoped and prayed for, yes, but to believe it was actually possible? Not so much. He figured Lana pining did not equate to Lana having. And the time when he actually did have her, he had and lost her so in aa expeditious moment ; it was as if whatever he had initially was but a chimera playing on his vulnerability.

And if Lana was unattainable – Lana, whom he had thought he loved for most of his life, could not stay - then what were the chances that someone could?

And it was then that he realized, Lois was and always will be the exception, the snowflake in the burning trenches of Hades. Lois was his. Smiling, he falls back into bed, and soon is lost to the world as deep slumber took over, with the image a woman in a pink prom dress floating at the edge of his periphery…

The cave was silent for most part of the time, till the faint buzzing sound wailed slightly louder, and made its final crescendo, ending as the gem shatters…

_**Now**_

Metropolis, 2010

Clark Kent opens his eyes, slightly squinted, as the sunlight that streams in through the window curtains blinds him for a moment. He remembers the dream and feels the slight vertigo that makes his stomach crawl and shift like sand in the Sahara.

He checks his clock and realizes it was time for work.

Or potential work.

He had an interview with the Daily Planet in an hour.

With his daily ablutions done, he fixes his tie and remembers the women who used to help him with it. His smile vaguely falls as he thinks how he's managed to let one of them leave. He turns to go but picks up the letter he finds on the floor. The letter he was reading the night before, the one he keeps with him in his wallet. He wonders how he gets by with his masochistic nature, the love of self torture as he never fails to throw it away.

No matter if the words on the scented paper tastes like ash in his mouth.

He leaves it on the table for the first time since he has it and flies off to the _planet_.

_Smallville, _

_I don't know how to say this, but what we have now, feels wrong. It's wonderful, but sometimes it feels like it isn't _supposed_ to be. _

_I'm sorry to spoil our vacation, and I'm sure when Chloe and Lana realizes what's in my letter to you (they have a way of knowing it's content so its ok if you just surrendered and showed them at the first instigation) they will probably want to do to me what Texas Chainsaw have to those silly over-sexed teenyboppers traveling in their Podunk marijuana motor trap._

_I'm leaving, Clark. _

_Maybe one day, we will find each other again and we could continue what we had, but for now, I need to figure out who I am and why I can't do it, do this right now. _

_You need to know who you want and what you want to be. I love what we have and I might even say that I love the person, but seven days in Vegas and three under the stars hardly constitutes evidence enough that we're mature enough to go through your plans of elopement (I know you weren't exactly kidding, even with all that tequila in MonteLago.) and taking a flat in far out Gotham._

_Please, don't try to look for me. I want us to live out our lives and when we meet again, and feel that same tingles (I always knew you felt it too! But telling me halfway past Vegas and the desert while we were at the backseat with Chloe driving is much more the confirmation I needed, and not to mention, very romantic) we'll see where it goes. If it's anything like I am hoping for, it'll go straight to you know where._

_But for now, I need you to understand that I cannot be with you. And if you find me, you will only get sent back. _

_I love you. However, until I can sort out what all these things I'm feeling mean and where I'm supposed to be, I will love you from afar. _

_Don't wait for me, Clark._

_Lois_

He was late, with all that flying, he still manages to be ten minutes late. He curses the slight run in with the bank robber. He wonders if it can be his fault that he did take a slight sadistic pleasure in manhandling the errant thief a bit. He _was_ very inconsiderate.

Without thinking he runs for the closing lift and manages to further annoy himself by crashing into someone, running in the same direction.

"OW! God, watch where you're going why don't you!"

"I'm so sor- Lois?"

She was there. Lois Lane, so near him he could reach out, hand on her cheek. And a thousand memories surfaces in his mind's eye. The pink dress, the white two-piece, the curve of lips, her smirk, the warm brown eyes... The kiss and the _kiss_. Their song, the nights camped under the stars, their drunken games with Chloe and Lana…

She was beautiful as ever. And surprisingly quiet.

"Hi Clark." She looked nervous and he notices the irony. The letter, his connection to her, the one he had left at home has been now replaced by the woman herself. Destiny, he vaguely thinks, but neglects as he also realized how destiny also took her away all those years ago.

He smiles seeing her flustered. It was an anomaly and something he hopes to see more often.

If he could help it, everyday of his life.

"Here for an interview too?" he asks, studying her face. It was now. Now or he didn't know when else. Love me now, love me here, love me near. Do not love me from afar anymore. Love. Me.

Now.

She nods, too flustered to do anything but. Aside from stealing sly glances at the man she had left, albeit unwillingly to find herself and give him the space she thought he needed.

He was as she remembered and so much she could have hoped for. He seemed ready. Regrettably, she realizes she was ready, five years ago. But insecurity led her to write the letter anyway. But now… they could be great.

And as they both reached for the button, their fingers touched.

Skin on skin and their synapses goes on overload.

It was without a doubt that the tingles were still very much there…and, they knew, the time was now.

_Finis_.


End file.
